Twisted Lover
by Tachumare
Summary: AU. Wherein Shizuo Heiwajima was a serial killer and he just so happened to be involved with Orihara Izaya in the worst way possible. But then, maybe they were the best fit for each other. The Kami and the Bakemono.


_**This chapter has a trigger warning (maybe). If you're not comfortable with it, just please stop, because this story is Rated M for many reasons. If you're against homosexual relationships, this is not the fic for you. Turn back as soon as possible.**_

 _ **Warnings! Major OOC-ness, especially from Shizuo, mentions of violence and...yeah.**_

 _ **I don't own Durarara! Never have, never will, and never can.**_

 **Prologue- Killer**

 _"...Fujiwara Yuzuru-san, aged fifty-eight years old, was found dead in a hotel room. The time of death is estimated to be at 1:00 in the morning. There have been no signs of struggle nor any sign of missing belongings, leading the police to believe that this is homicide; the murderer has yet to be apprehended. Police are calling for eye-witnesses that may lead to catching the suspect."_

 _Earlier that day, 9:00 PM, Ikebukuro_

As always, the city was alive during the night.

People milled around, talking, laughing, or going home-whatever people did in a normal life. In a cafe somewhere, a tall, brown-haired man sat sipping a milkshake-strawberry, his favorite-and an untouched cheesecake sat in front of him.

He watched curiously the sight in front of him: a fat, balding man of fifty-eight years old, and a girl, who looked no older than eighteen-and narrowed his eyes. _Disgusting_. His stomach recoiled at the relationship of the two, but what they were was of no concern to him-it never was.

He had more important things to do.

A slightly disturbing smile graced the man's striking features, his eyes still on the couple in front of him, before pulling the cheesecake towards himself and picking up his fork. For now, he would enjoy his dessert.

 _11:00 PM_

The brown-haired man followed discreetly from a distance once the middle-aged man and the girl left the cafe, the girl clinging onto the older man's arm, a sweet smile on her pretty face. The man almost snorted at the action, his hands itching. _Not yet, not yet_ , his mind screamed, but today's target was especially annoying, having that girl attached to her companion like a barnacle.

The brown-haired man parted the crowd easily, though he was actually noticeable-white dress shirt, black vest, dress pants tucked into combat boots, and a pair of green headphones rested around the slender column of his neck-and mistaken for as half-Asian. The brown-haired man smirked. Funny how contact lenses did wonders, despite his dislike for them.

He watched as the man in the business suit and the girl enter a love hotel; the brown-haired man sighed, leaning on the side of the building-he'd have to wait out here. The brunette glanced at his watch in irritation. Damn idiots in love. Why couldn't they make his job easier?

Ah, well. The wait would be worth in the end. After all, he was in a good mood-might as well let them have the time of their lives before he cut it short. After all, you know what they say: the most fun part of having a cake at a birthday party was blowing out the candles.

His fingers were itching for the hidden knife in his pocket; just the thought of snuffing someone's life out filled him with an undescribable excitement and he felt that insane urge to _destroy_ , to wreck _everything_ around him, to paint everything a pretty, pretty red and-

"Oi. Whatcha doin' on our turf, ya punk?"

The man was broken out of his violent thoughts when a rather large group of men approached him, sneers and ugly looks on their faces. Each one, the brunette noticed, was carrying a weapon in hand-lead pipes, baseball bats, whatever tacky gangsters seemed to carry these days. He glanced at them in slight boredom.

"Your turf," the man repeated. "You own this place or something?"

The leader-or so he seemed-bristled. "Like hell, 'course we do! And you're stepping in our _territory_ , you damn poser. Get out, or you're gonna regret this," the one with the bright yellow hair and ugly haircut spat in his face, brandishing a lead pipe.

A rakish grin stretched the brunette's lips, his earlier disinterest in the group vanished and he doubled over, shaking silently with laughter. Ah, how fun! How fun! Here he was, waiting for the fun to start, and double the excitement comes to him! Ah, lucky night! Not only would he see the looks on the lovers' faces when he killed one or the other, he'd get to extinguish a pack of squealing brats, too!

WHAT FUN! WHAT FUN!

The guy with the ugly haircut seemed to mistake his trembling for fear, and he vaguely heard the others jeering and laughing, but ah, it wasn't their fault. These wanna-be children, these so-called gangsters, he'd do them a favor. After all, the world was cruel. He wouldn't want them to stay in a cruel world, _right_?

Ah, can't take it anymore. The brunette threw his head back, his silence replaced with loud, racous peals of laughter, and he slapped his hand on his knee for emphasis. He could see how the gangsters looked unnerved with his reaction, and this made him laugh harder.

A few people turned and looked directly at him, but he could honestly care less; it's not like they could see his face, anyway. He was hidden in the darkness. He could do whatever he liked. He was the monster under everyone's bed, and it was time these inexperienced trying-hard kids meet the real bogeyman under their bed.

He thought back to his earlier victims, and shrugged. He'd get to them later.

"Oi," he choked out, once he'd stopped laughing. "Telling me to get out or else I'll regret it means that...you'll beat me up when I don't, right? When worse comes to worst, you'll kill me, right?" So you have no problem-" here he stared them down, the familiar feeling of excitement and thrill invading his system, "-if I get to you first, _right_?"

He was grinning again, and he imagined how he must have looked like right now, but judging by the looks on their faces, it wasn't anything pretty. They looked like their worst nightmares had come true. The tall brunette withdrew his knife, the metal glinting in the dim light; he could see them swallow.

"W-what the hell!" the leader barked. "There's just him! There's plenty of us! Get him!"

It was useless. The whole group threw themselves at him weapons at the ready, and in return, he jumped on a closed Dumpster, vaulting over all the rest, relishing the way they looked at him, faces frozen in an expression of fear, surprise, and awe.

"You bastards!" he yelled gleefully. "You tried attacking me, right!? Then, you won't mind if I attack too, right!?"

His answer was a cry of fear, and they all started running away from him. Well, that was no good. He'd get bored. The man jumped one of the retreating gangsters, the same guy with the ugly haircut, and the brunette grinned, running his knife down the other's face.

 _12: 50 AM, in an alley somewhere in Ikebukuro_

The tall man stretched, feeling his back pop in places. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Before him, lay a gruesome sight: a man, with an ugly haircut, his face battered beyond belief, a makeshift gag in his mouth. The victim's eyes were open, staring into nothingness, and the tall brunette chuckled, squatting down to stare at his newest-and recently dead-plaything.

"Nice playing with you," he whispered cheerfully, and stood up again, taking his knife, which was very bloodied, and pocketing it.

He glanced at the entrance of the hotel building. No use in waltzing in now that he looked like this, huh...?

He shrugged and took a running leap on the window of the hotel building, then onto another, and another, until he reached the room where the two originals were supposed to be staying-he had a pretty good idea on what they were doing, and it filled him with disgust-but nevertheless, he never liked pesky insects.

"Fujiwara-san!" he interrupted. The old man and his companion looked horrified-he watched in amusement as Fujiwara tried to cover his young _lover_ the best he could-Shizuo had never really cared about women that way, so Fujiwara was wasting effort.

"Hey, did you hear? About that murder last week."

He watched as the man's face grew pale in realization, backing up a step, while his companion looked on with terrified eyes. The brunette smirked; it'd be fun breaking this girl. No, he wouldn't make a play for her-but breaking her lover would break her for sure.

"I-I don't know about any murder!" Fujiwara sputtered, gathering his clothes. The contacts-wearing man sighed; this was boring. Might as well get it over with.

"That's not true at all, Fujiwara-san. After all, I did tell you that last time, you know. 'Don't tell anyone.' And yet, you went on told on me. Did you know the punishment for that, Fujiwara-san?"

He walked towards the man, enjoying how the older man's eyes widened in terror, before he walked past Fujiwara Yuzuru and locked the door. He heard a tiny shriek, and smirked.

"It means that I get to play with you, Fujiwara-san."

 _8:00 AM, the next day, Ikebukuro_

 _"...culprit was identified under the alias Psy-420. Police are appealing for more information."_

The television was turned off, a blonde man throwing the remote on the couch before making his way to the kitchen. "Ahh, fuckin' depressing."

Shizuo Heiwajima smirked to himself.

 _ **Fuwaa~**_

 _ **I am so sorry if Shizuo is so OOC. And that I used 'he' or used 'the tall, brown-haired man' or 'the tall brunette' too much...**_

 _ **For further explanation, this is my take on what would have happened if Shizuo had been left alone in childhood-he had stated that he hadn't watched any movies or read any manga related to violence, after all-and what would have happened if no one had bothered to check the kinds of movies he had been watching.**_

 _ **Basically, it's a fic wherein Shizuo loves violence. But never fear, this is just the prologue! Hopefully, my writing gets better...but everyone, constructive criticism is appreciated! Reviews are even more appreciated! Please let me know on what you think of this Shizuo (I know what I made him a lot like Izaya...-_-)!**_

 _ **So, if people took the time to kindly review and point out mistakes, I'd thank you with the bottom of my heart! And cookies, too! But flames will be extinguished! xP**_

 _ **Review, please?**_


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